”You are ridiculous,” a familiar voice said.
Fairy tilted her head and opened one eye to see the hem of purple robes and sparks dancing around a clenched fist. That was Purple Uncle, Her Human’s Most Important Person. He seemed all angry and shouty but in reality, he was very nice and always had treats and scritches to her.
”You’re supposed to be a dignified spiritual dog,” Purple Uncle grumbled and sat next to her, ignoring the cold.
It was cold because it was winter and Her Human was visiting his friends (Shouty White, Gentle White, and Gentle Red) and there was snow and Fairy loved snow. Therefore, she was wiggling in the snow. On her back. With her tongue lolling out.
It was amazing.
Purple Uncle reached out a hand and scritched at a spot under Fairy’s jaw, the place she never quite managed to pinpoint properly and she stretched into the contact, letting out a contented little whine.
”Ridiculous,” Purple Uncle huffed.
Despite his words, Purple Uncle smelled sad. He’d smelled sad a lot lately, ever since Quake and Death and Danger and Blood and Resentment, ever since Scary White had taken Black/Scared One away. There were a lot of tangled-up feelings and scents whenever Purple Uncle thought about Black/Scared One and since they were now in the Cold White Place, Purple Uncle mostly smelled sad. Because if Fairy was in the Cold White Place, the Black/Scared One was not.
Humans were complicated.
Well, except for Her Human. He was simple.
”It’s so quiet here,” Purple Uncle muttered. ”I bet he hates it. Or, well, they hate him because he’s never been quiet in his life. Lives.” He paused and then added, ”Whatever.” There was something wistful in his voice and his scent which told Fairy who he was thinking about.
She opened her eyes and nudged her head a bit, reminding Purple Uncle of his task. When he didn’t continue with the scritches, Fairy sighed and wiggled and wormed until she ended up half on Purple Uncle’s lap. He snorted and made a disgusted sound deep in his throat, grumbling something about wet dog hair on his robes but Fairy knew he didn’t mean it because of how his voice hitched and how his hand clenched in her fur. It pinched a bit but she didn’t mind—it reminded her of how Her Human held her whenever he had his spells of Big Sad.
Besides, she was a big dog and her fur was as thick as it was soft and she knew she was excellent at cuddles. She knew because many people had told her so, and because of how she always made Her Human feel better.
She let out another soft whine and wiggled a bit more until she was comfortable and Purple Uncle had his lap full. He snorted and then let out a long, shuddering breath. ”You’re a good girl, Fairy,” he whispered into her fur.
Fairy didn’t comment. She knew she was a good girl.
The goodest.